Family bonding
by daughterofares97
Summary: Aphrodite spends some quality family time with one of her daughters with hilarious results. TWOSHOT
1. Chapter 1

**I dedicate this to my BFF, who actually did this.  
>o.O I worry about my friends sometimes…<strong>

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><p>I would like to start off by saying that I, Charlotte Winters, 14 year old daughter of Aphrodite, am not usually cruel or unsociable, but my mother tends to bring out the worst in me.<p>

You see, it all started when Mummy dearest decided to take her children out for individual bonding time. And, well, that day, was my day. But I had a fantastic plan to get out of the day's shopping…

"Come on Charlotte, let's go somewhere nice, like Olive Garden!"

"I say McDonalds."

"But darling…"

"No Mum, I want McDonalds!"

"Okay, whatever my baby girl wants." suckah…Step one of the plan initiated, time for step two…

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><p>"I demand to see Ronald!" I screamed at the spotty youth behind the counter at McDonalds.<p>

"For the last time Miss, he doesn't work here." He said, trying to remain calm and keep his eyes off my mother's chest.

"The adverts on TV expressly show that Ronald McDonald the clown works here. Now send in the clown, bey-atch."

"Baby girl, maybe we should just go." said my mother, resting her hand on my shoulder. By this time the rest of the customers were starting to leave

"NOT UNTIL I SEE RONALD MCDONALD! NOW SEND IN THE CLOWN, OR I SWEAR I WILL ASSAULT YOU." I screamed.

"Bodily assault is against the law ma'am."

"So is false advertising. Send in the clown."

The boy sighed deeply, and then said grudgingly, "I'll see what I can do."

About fifteen minutes later, the same boy walked in, this time wearing a yellow boiler suit, a red suit and white make-up. He said monotonously, "Hello, welcome to McDonalds, may I take your order."

"I'll have a Big Mac, with French fries, soda and a frosty. My mother will have a water and one French fry." then, leaning forward and whispering conspiratorially I said "shh, she's on a diet."

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><p>Several minutes later my mother and I were eating our delicious, greasy meal. Or, to be more specific, Aphrodite was sipping her water and glaring at me while I ate my huge Big Mac, grease and ketchup dripping onto my black, Linkin Park T-shirt.<p>

"So, Charlotte," the love goddess said, her smile and voice strained "where do you want to go next? We're going clothes shopping, but you can pick the shop."

"How about Target?" I replied.

"Target?" my mother said. She sounded like she regretted ever claiming me.

"It's pronounced, Tar-jay." I said through a mouthful of frosty.

"As you wish dearest."

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><p><strong>Next chapter tomorrow. For all the people reading 'Iron and ire', I will update on Saturday.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**my blog is better than yours: ****XD, I would be honored if you wanted to do that, but I would like to know which story. But thanks, I feel so proud.**

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><p>Okay, so the last plan didn't work, my day was still ruined. However, there was time enough for me to ensure that mother dearest never wanted to spend another second in my presence.<p>

At about 1.30 in the afternoon, we had made it to 'tar-jay' (the best shop in the universe), and were in the women's clothing section. Mother was perusing a rack of shirts, I was busy searching for the ugliest outfit I could find. I saw it soon enough, and grabbed it off the rack.

"How about this one Mommy?" I asked innocently, holding up the shirt.

Aphrodite visibly reeled back at the horrendous shirt. It was shapeless, and neon green, with two fluorescent pink and yellow kittens gamboling on the front. "A-are you sure darling? Don't you prefer this one?" said the beauty goddess, holding up a golden shirt, a hopeful smile on her face.

"Nah." I said, my best innocent smile on my face. "It's good of course, but this one is better. I have an idea, why don't I wear that one and you wear this one?" Oh, damn I'm evil.

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><p>Half an hour a later Aphrodite and I were walking around Abercrombie and Fitch, I looking gorgeous, the golden over the shoulder shirt contrasting perfectly with my chocolate skin and ringletted black hair. My mother on the other hand, looked gorgeous, but as unfashionable as could be, the shirt contrasting terribly with her white skinny jeans.<p>

We were walking around, glancing at the dresses, when from behind us a familiar voice was heard.

"Mother?" cried a teenage boy's shocked voice. Both my mother and I whirled around, and were greeted with the sight of my resplendent, immortal half-brother, Eros, god of love. He was disguised as an eighteen year-old boy, with jet-black hair and was dressed in the height of fashion, as always.

"Eros!" my mother cried and ran towards him, ecstatic at the sight of her favorite son.

"What are you wearing?" he squawked.

While this was going on I pulled my i-pod out of my pocket, and began to make a beeping noise. "Beep. Beep. Beep." I said, a long pause between each beep.

"What are you doing?" asked the two of them in perfect sync.

Smiling at them I said simply "This is my gay-dar." I continued to make the beeping noises, their frequency increasing as I walked towards Eros. "." Eros began to look confused. "Do you have something to tell us Eros?" I said, my eyebrow raised in skepticism.

Both of the god's expressions immediately turned to anger, and my mother said forcefully "I think its time you went back to camp, don't you dear?"

Plan, complete.

**I would jsut like to make this very clear: I meant no offense to any gay people, I'm not homophobic or anything. I completely disagree with any discrimination whatsoever (even discrimination against gingers), I also disagree with teenage boys who walk around school with 'gay-dars', I find it immature.  
>Is it sad that I described my favorite shirt?<br>**


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